


Sith Happens

by ChristineThalassinou1990, Sickmuse23



Series: Adventures in the Old Republic [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Dark Temple, Dromund Kaas, Dromund Kaas fauna, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inquisitor has a foul mouth, Male-Female Friendship, Nightmares, Sith Academy, Sith Empire, Sith Juggernaut, Swearing, character injury, sith sorcerer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 19:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19179466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineThalassinou1990/pseuds/ChristineThalassinou1990, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sickmuse23/pseuds/Sickmuse23
Summary: Ahiyah, the Sith Sorcerer-in-training, tries to navigate his way through the dark jungle of the life on Dromund Kaas, both in a literal and a metaphorical way. One day, he finds the most unexpected partner for this quest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I'm writing with one of my friends, both of us are quite a big fan of SWTOR. Ahiyah is my (Christine's) Sith Sorcerer, Fherea is her Sith Juggernaut. We hope that you'll enjoy reading this little story as much as we've enjoyed writing it! :)

Ahiyah, the new apprentice of Lord Zash, made a painstaking effort to leave the Citadel - and his master’s quarters - as unnoticed as he could. Zash was just… too much. At first he was glad that someone finally chose him as an apprentice and he could leave that motherfucker Overseer Harkun behind to rot in the red sand dunes of Korriban, but now he almost felt nostalgia for the Sith Academy.

Harkun hated him and vice versa, but at least it was predictable and constant; Zash, on the other hand, was sickeningly kind for a Sith. She always praised even the smallest achievements of his, whatever he did, she found it “excellent” and “amazing”. And Ahiyah got the sick feeling that his master was up to something much more than teaching him the ways of the Sith.

 _There’s no way I’d fuck her, ever_ , he thought grimly as he eyed the whiskey in his glass, sitting in one of the cantinas in Kaas City.

As a Sith, getting drunk was a bit more difficult, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try it anyway.

 

However, he wasn’t the only apprentice on Dromund Kaas who would gladly give their master the pleasure of a Force choke. Fherea Tir-Tego, born into nobility and known as one of the most promising students Korriban could spare, literally stormed into the cantina. A group of young cadets, biding their time with a casual sabacc match, averted their eyes from the black-dressed woman on an instant. Only an idiot would dare flirt with a furious Sith.

Fherea was sick and tired of Darth Baras’ tedious errands and overdramatic speeches - not to mention his chambers which stank like a lair of a dead hutt. Not that she’d ever had the chance to encounter a hutt in person, but her corpulent master was the closest thing to that revolting alien race.

She was wondering what her self-important father would think about her if she “accidentally” broke some noses in a cantina-brawl. The mixture of disgust and disapproval on his face had always given Fherea a good laugh.

“The strongest drink if you may” she told the bartender halfway to the counter. In spite of her pleasant smile and manner, her words were lanced with such fury the bartender dropped everything out of his hand to fulfill her wish.

As she was waiting, arms crossed on her chest, she caught sight of the brooding Ahiyah from the corner of her eye.

“If you stare at that glass too long, it’ll surely swallow you” she said humorously, although she wasn’t in a particularly merry mood.

 

Ahiyah made an effort to glance up at the source of the pleasant voice, but he instantly tensed when he noticed the pretty Sith Warrior. Back on Korriban, he had really bad experiences with this kind of Sith, and he wasn’t sure that the situation would change very much on Dromund Kaas.

“Who’re you?” he muttered, turning back to his glass and sending down the whiskey in one go.

He grimaced, the drink burned his throat, but he ordered another. He needed something strong for his nerves right now.

“Just another Sith looking for a big fat headache" she shrugged, getting her drink from the bartender.

“And should I call you Headache, or you have a name?”

Fherea considered starting that cantina-brawl after all, so triggering was the other Sith’s sarcasm, but she held herself back for the time being. The other was quite handsome, desirable even; it would’ve been a shame to break his lovely nose. And she really liked his messy, dark crimson hair; she’d never met another redhead Sith before, and this one was cute.

“Fherea" she said, not elaborating on her noble ancestry. “And you’re…?”

“Ahiyah" he answered, looking her in the eyes for the first time. “Apprentice of Lord Zash" he added, grimacing again, and this time it wasn’t the drink that made him do so.

 

“My condolences” she sighed compassionately, and she meant it. “There was a time at the Academy when I met her on a daily basis. Her oh-so-sweet attitude sickened me, and she couldn't accept the fact I wasn't up for some bootlicking.”

Finishing her shot within a heartbeat, she let the high-quality alcohol quell her anger.

“Long story short: I didn't count among her favorites” she added with a wink of her yellow eye.

 

Then she ordered another shot, effectively preventing the bartender to serve the other customers, who of course didn’t dare say a word when they spotted the two definitely dangerous-looking Sith.

“Can I try it?” Ahiyah asked, nodding at her drink.

Fherea raised a curious eyebrow at the other’s cheekiness but handed her glass over, wanting to know how much Ahiyah can stand really strong drinks. As it turned out, not so much. He drank it bravely but a split second later spat it out right at the poor bartender, coughing like he was about to die of suffocation.

“Water, please" Fherea called the bartender, trying her best to hide her grin as she patted Ahiyah’s back.

“What the fuck was that?!” he gasped, his face almost as red as his hair, his eyes watering from the shock.

To be honest, Fherea didn’t know.

“Something you don’t want to try ever again, apparently. But you’ve wasted my drink. At least you should buy me another.”

“Fair enough” he admitted and did as he was told. “And do you have a lovely master as well?” he asked, suddenly getting curious about his unexpected drinking mate; or it was just the alcohol taking effect on him, he didn’t know.

 

“Lovely?” Fherea chuckled, almost sinisterly. “If you can consider Lord Baras _lovely_ , well… here you have it.”

From Ahiyah’s baffled blinking, she suspected the fellow Sith might just need some clarification. Something - maybe the Force itself - told her this would be one of the most entertaining conversations she’d had in months.

“Grey robes, spikey shoulderpads, mask and the size of a hutt. And the irresistible need to bother me on holocall.” She rolled her eyes irritatedly. “Every. Fucking. Time.”

 

Ahiyah tried to remember anyone who could resemble even remotely to that description, but he had to admit a failure.

“Dunno who’re you talking about, but he sure doesn’t sound lovely” he said, shrugging. “One of my trainers was pretty fat, but he was an Inquisitor, not some Darth. Anyway, what is this mask-fetish with Sith Lords?” he asked; it was something he’d searched the answer for ever since he stepped into the Korriban Academy.

Now it was Fherea’s turn to blink in surprise; that was a quite unexpected question.

“Where are you from?” she asked, getting the feeling that something was a bit off with her drinking partner; he didn’t talk and behave like it could’ve been expected from a true Sith. He felt somehow… softer. However, she couldn’t tell in what way yet.

“Irylia. I was a slave before the Academy” he said somewhat defiantly, like he was expecting her to hurt him because of it.

 

On the contrary, she fell silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry” Fherea muttered eventually. “I think I’ve heard about that place before in the news. Ten years ago, off-world pirates landed on the planet, sacking and looting everything they could. Then Imperial troops came, fashionably late as always, and put an end to the riot.” Ahiyah could see the mischievous sparks literally dissipating from the Warrior’s eyes as she hardened her jaw. “Most survivors ended up on the slave market. They survived, but for what? To be treated like worse than trash or those damned aliens? I can’t imagine what my life would’ve been if…”

She stopped to clear her throat, loosening her grip on the glass. Silver cracks had appeared on its surface like distant lighting bolts from the safety of a starship’s cockpit.

“Anyways, I didn’t mean to drag you down. It’s been a busy day so far, and I desperately needed to get something of my chest. Some may call me capricious, but most of the Sith are just like that, aren’t they?”

 

“Yeah, it seems so…” Ahiyah muttered, but before he could’ve said more, his personal comm signaled an incoming call.

From Ahiyah’s exasperated groan, Fherea had a guess who was the intruder, and her guess proved to be right in the next moment.

“Apprentice, I hope I don’t disturb you” said the miniature holopicture of Lord Zash. “But I have a task for you.”

“And what is it?” Ahiyah asked, trying his best to hide his irritation, but Fherea heard - and felt - it nonetheless.

“I’ve tracked down a very interesting artifact here, on Dromund Kaas. It’s in the Dark Temple, and I need someone who could pick it up for me. I’m quite engaged in other projects as well. Would you do that for me?” Zash asked, her voice so sweet Ahiyah felt his teeth getting cavities.

But at least while he’s away, he could be far from Zash as well.

“Okay” he said. “Is it urgent?”

“The sooner the better. Good hunting, apprentice!”

“I’m still sick of that bitch…” Fherea muttered, and Ahiyah snorted.

“Well, I can provide some cure in the form of Dark Temple adventures. Wanna come?” he offered with a captivating half-smile.

 

Fherea wasn’t really sure what to make of this positively weird Sith, but she couldn’t turn down such an offer.

“Is that a question, Sorcerer?” she rose with a challenging smile.

Right after she left the counter, she stumbled into her own feet which earned a quick smirk from Ahiyah. For some reason, she didn’t feel offended, nor humiliated by the gesture. He shall see soon what a Sith is truly capable of.


	2. Chapter 2

“The bushes won’t help you get into the temple” Ahiyah informed her, turning his rented speeder around to face the woman. “Believe me, I asked them.”

“Haha, you embraced the funny side of the Force, I see” Fherea growled, brushing her arms over and over again.

Being a city girl, she’d always preferred Kaas City over the bustling wildlife of her homeplanet. Now, she’d just had a literal _crush_ on its flora. Luckily, the foreboding Dark Temple stood just ahead, so it wouldn’t matter much if her speeder had stopped working.

She used her telekinetic powers to release her vehicle from the thorny grasp of the vines, then jolted it by the handle.

 

They searched for a place to park their speeders then ventured into the Temple, which was, being faithful to its name, dark like the Emperor’s ass. And as stinky, too. Thanks to the too much alcohol he consumed and the terrible smell, Ahiyah felt his stomach churning, then in a second, he decorated the nearest wall with some vomit. Perhaps it was a bad idea to come here now, after all.

Fherea grimaced but gave Ahiyah some water to rinse his mouth.

“No one had taught you how to negate the effects of alcohol and other poisons?” she asked; it was one of the first skills she’d learnt in the Academy.

“I’ve most probably missed that lesson…” he muttered, and Fherea sighed.

“Then I’ll teach you, it’s quite simple. Close your eyes, and whatever happens, DON’T take a deep breath!”

Ahiyah chuckled, but did as he was told. The trick was indeed pretty simple, and soon his head was perfectly clear, and he didn’t even feel sick anymore.

“Thank you” he said, and Fherea knew he was truly grateful.

“No problem” she muttered. “Let’s go, we have an artifact to find.”

They both activated their lightsabers and went on, but after a few minutes they heard some noise behind them.

“What was that?” Fherea asked, and Ahiyah tensed.

“Don’t know, but I think it’s nothing good.”

 

The hideous creature appeared out of thin air. Despite the utter darkness, Ahiyah caught a glimpse of its emerald scales and leaned against the wall, denying their attacker the opportunity of an ambush. Fherea, however, took up a defensive stance and channeled a vivid Force aura around her body.

“Careful” Ahiyah hissed through his gritted teeth. He couldn't see, but the other Sith smiled wholeheartedly at the warning.

Finally, the monstrous being showed itself. With a quick slash of her lightsaber, Fherea prevented it closing in on the duo, which was answered with an enraged hiss.

“What the hell is this thing?” asked the Sorcerer as dark energy swirled around his fingers, preparing for an attack.

“A jurgoran.” Not a moment too late, Fherea bent down to dodge the incoming flurry of the jurgoran’s sharp talons. “A non-sentient creature, native to this planet, which --”

“Save the history lesson for later, we have a battle to win!”

 

Surprisingly quickly, they fell into a comfortable rhythm: Fherea attacked at close range, keeping the creature busy while Ahiyah supported her from a more or less safe distance with Force lightning and a tightly controlled Force storm. The sheer power of the latter was enough to remind Fherea that despite of his past in slavery, Ahiyah was not to be underestimated.

Ahiyah tried to move closer and find a better angle for another burst of lightning when the creature’s hard, enormous paw smashed into his side, sending him flying into the nearest wall.

“Fuck you…!” he groaned, spitting a healthy dose of blood on the stone ground as he struggled to his feet.

The creature charged at him, but this time Ahiyah was prepared. When the jurgoran was in a few feet distance, he released a lightning storm so powerful it made the walls blacken; it killed the creature in mere seconds, leaving only a heap of smoking and horribly stinking goo.

“Impressive” Fherea admitted. “Most impressive.”

 

Ahiyah smirked, wiping his nose.

“You're not bad either.”

“Come on” Fherea waved with her hand dismissively. “I barely did anything. The merit is all yours. The jurgoran is a test for all Sith, and you've passed it. With flying colors.”

The other raised a curious eyebrow at her. He couldn't really decide whether he'd heard it right or it was just the Force lighting still ringing in his ears. Opposite to the endless high praises of his master, Fherea's words warmed his bitter heart. Moment by moment, a strange feeling was welling up in his chest that Fherea was nothing like an ordinary Sith. But he didn't want to trust his feelings just yet - he knew the ways of the Sith all too well.

“Are we going or what?” Fherea asked impatiently a few steps away, interrupting his train of thoughts. “This artifact of yours won't fly to us by itself. Or you're feeling…?”

“No, I'm absolutely fine” Ahiyah replied hastily. “Let's not waste our precious time, shall we?”

“I like the sound of that. But take caution. Providing that other creatures inhabit this tunnel, they would be completely deaf not sensing your little concert.”

Ahiyah nodded and followed the Warrior deeper into tunnel. Dim light radiated in the distance, heralding the fact they were getting close to the main hall.

 

The main hall was huge; very much so. The Sith walked in silently, Ahiyah looking around somewhat nervously. He didn’t like this dim green light of the hall at all.

“Where does this light come from?” he asked Fherea, whispering, but she just shrugged, not knowing the answer.

She found Ahiyah’s general curiosity somewhat baffling, for he often asked things she didn’t know the answer to, and quite endearing. A genuinely curious Sith was not something one could meet every day. Meanwhile, they reached the middle of the main hall where on an altar-like thing were an ancient-looking chest, most probably containing the artifact Ahiyah came for. He was about to go and get it when Fherea stopped him by grabbing the hood of his tunic.

“Hey!” he yelped, surprised by the sudden tug.

“Are you brain-dead or what? This is the Dark Temple. At least a dozen Sith Lords are buried here, their spirits are just waiting for an idiot fool to torture. Do you want to be the one?”

“Nope” Ahiyah admitted, his expression cutely thoughtful as he tried to come up with a solution. “But how am I gonna get the artifact, then?”

“Search for traps first" Fherea suggested. “It’s sure as hell there are many. These Sith Lords guarded their secrets pretty jealously.”

 

With that said, they searched the room thoroughly. Even though nothing was there to be found, Fherea couldn't brush off the feeling they were being watched. She glanced at the statues at the other side of the hall, depicting two menacing, faceless Sith Lords in ceremonial robes, and narrowed her eyes.

“Ahiyah, look at those statues. Do you see anything particular about them?”

“Well” he started, rubbing his bearded chin. “I wouldn't mess with them in life, that's for sure. There's something wrong about them, but I can't put my finger on it.”

“It's a trap then” Fherea jumped to conclusion.

“But how do we disarm it?”

Another question she didn't have an answer for. No matter - this time he shall have it.

Cautiously, she walked up to the statues and inspected them with great care.

“What are you up to, sneaky bastards?” she whispered to herself, her index finger tapping her lips.

Then she peeked into the shadowy hood of the carved figure and to her great amazement, she stumbled upon a tiny beam of green light, hidden into its head. It was the same hue of green which enveloped the hall. She focused on the source and channeled the Force into it. Then all so suddenly, the gleaming ceased.

“Here you go. One step closer to the artifact. Now, let's see if we can --”

“Watch out!”

The thundering rubble came from the other statue.

 

“What the hell?!” Fherea cried as she turned to Ahiyah and the other statue which was… moving.

At first, Fherea didn’t want to believe her eyes, but when the hostile, pretty big piece of stone almost slapped her Sorcerer partner right in the face, she made herself move. Ahiyah had already taken a pretty bad beating from the jurgoran, he really didn’t need another from a ton of stone with glowing green eyes.

Fortunately, Ahiyah ducked under the statue’s arm, avoiding the sucker punch, but his situation wasn’t too bright. The statue was at least partially sentient, for it was actively trying to shepherd the Sorcerer into a corner and most probably beat the shit out of him.

Fherea didn’t hesitate, gathering the Force around herself, she made a jump right into the statue’s neck and aimed at its throat with a two-handed blow. To her surprise, her lightsaber barely scratched the stone; it was most probably reinforced with some dark ritual. Ahiyah, seeing her balancing on top of the Temple guardian, didn’t dare use Force lightning or storm to attack, fearing that he’d hurt Fherea, too, but this time his hesitation came with a price.

The statue hit him hard in the chest, and he crashed into the floor after a few meters of flying, bruising his back as well. He tried to get himself together and stand up to help Fherea, but even breathing was painful right now.

 

The battle didn't bode well for the Sith. One misstep, even a minor one, and they'd fail. Under no circumstances was surrender an option. A Warrior never falters, never gives up. Until her very last breath, she would fight for life, for the glory of the Empire.

“I. WILL. NOT. BE. DENIED!” Fherea's tremendous scream echoed through the Dark Temple as her body flashed in a crimson light. She was literally seeing red now.

Gathering all her fury and frustration about everything she'd ever despised - the never-ending nitpicking of Lord Baras, her father, the inept actions of the Empire on Ahiyah's homeworld, even the damned speeder -, she charged once again. She became one with the Dark Side of the Force as her entire presence molded into a deadly infusion of raw emotions. This time, the damage was done before she'd stroke. The statue gave away to her sheer force as it crumbled on the ground. Its head, however, remained intact -- only to be decapitated by the Warrior.

Trembling from exhaustion and covered in sweat and dust, Fherea fell to her knees. Ahiyah was still recovering which would have provided her precious time to made off with the artifact. She didn't know what it was, but it must've been valuable if Lord Zash wanted it so badly. In that case, Darth Baras and his impossible demands would be pleased for a time being. But at the same time, she'd gain a new enemy - and lose an opportunity of a promising alliance. Her gaze diverted from Ahiyah to the altar. When she would meet another Sith like him - a reasonable, cooperative and powerful person -, she couldn't tell. But she felt in her heart what must be done; even if it wasn’t the decision she was expected to make.

“Hang in there” Fherea said and grabbed Ahiyah's arms to pull him to his feet.

But in the end, she had to realize it was she who needed help as her legs failed to perform.

 

She fell on the still lying Ahiyah’s chest, earning a painful groan from him; the statue most probably cracked a few of his ribs.

“Sorry” she muttered, trying again to stand up; as the adrenaline left her body, she began feeling how damn exhausted she was. “But it seems you need to get up on your own.”

Just another growl was the only answer but Ahiyah struggled to his feet, trembling visibly as he did so; he looked not a bit better than how Fherea felt, still, he reached out to help her up as well. She glanced up at him, taking in the sight of him: his dirty and bloody face, the ugly bruise on his left cheek, his messy, dark crimson hair and neat beard. He didn’t have the distinctive yellow eyes of a Sith yet, and it just made him look more… innocent. His eyes were deep, dark blue, and Fherea had to admit that she liked them that way.

“You okay?” Ahiyah asked as he limped to the altar and got the chest with the artifact; and Fherea didn’t regret the decision to let him do so at all.

“Yeah, just… a bit tired and beaten up, I guess. However, you look really bad, so I have an offer: giving your master the artifact can wait until morning, but you need some medical attention pretty much right now. I have a comfortable apartment in Kaas City, you can stay there for the night, and I’ll get a medical droid for you” she said, waiting for his answer somewhat nervously; she knew what he must’ve thought of this offer.

And yes, at first, Ahiyah indeed thought that it was just a trap to get the artifact; they were Sith, after all. But this thought proved to be a fleeting one. Fherea had the opportunity to steal the artifact and leave him here to his fate, but she helped him instead.

“Fine. Thank you” he said, looking at her straight in the eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

“Your beverage, sir. As hot as you have requested.”

Ahiyah nodded with gratitude. The droid put the tray with the exquisite-looking pot, filled with a special tea originating from Dromund Kaas, on the delicate coffee table. It looked expensive as hell - just like every other furniture in the guestroom. Never had he seen such a well-equipped, luxurious penthouse apartment in his life. It came to him as an entire stronghold of state-of-art electronic gears and furnitures, not even mentioning the lavish decoration, accompanied by exotic indoor plants.

He couldn't fathom how rich Fherea - or her family - was, nor could he imagine living in prosperity. But one thing was sure: it must have been incredibly lonely in such an enormous apartment.

“Do you fancy my oh-so-awesome private realm?” Fherea entered the room with a relaxed expression on her face.

Clad in nothing but a white top and red, short pants, she was revealing her slightly muscular torso. She covered her wet hair with the towel in her neck and went on pouring some tea to her guest.

 

Ahiyah could only nod, sitting on the couch-extended-to-bed - it, too, was sinfully comfortable - in loose sleeping tunic and pants. They were a bit big for him, but he didn’t mind; they still irritated his grazes somewhat.

Fherea, true to her promise earlier, summoned a medical droid to tend to his numerous injuries, and although he didn’t have any broken bones just three cracked ribs, moving was still pretty much disagreeable with him. So now he reached for the cup Fherea handed him with utmost care, but his caution was in vain, his side just hurt relentlessly. When he couldn’t hold back a whimper, Fherea was glad she’d put some painkiller into his tea.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked, sitting down next to him.

“Like a beaten up, miserable pile of Sith shit…” he murmured, pulling the warm, soft blanket Fhera gave him tight around himself. “I just want to sleep for a year.”

“Well, I’m afraid I would have to charge some credits for such a prolonged stay” she chuckled. “But don’t worry, tonight is for free.”

He smiled back, a nice but heartbreakingly tired smile, so she deemed it better to let him rest. She couldn’t possibly have known that her new Sorcerer partner tended to have the kind of nightmares when one woke up screaming and crying.

 

“Do you have any idea what that artifact really is?” Fherea changed the topic.

“Nope. I haven’t even touched the chest containing it since we arrived.”

“Well, whatever it is, one would be in a desperate need of an army to steal it from us. An entire unit of battle-droids, several automated turrets and a one woman army await them to try.”

“That's-- good news.”

Fherea frowned. Something about Ahiyah's demeanor unsettled her deeply, even if she'd known him for a day or so. Maybe he just needed some rest. Not like she didn't have some bruises that deliberately screamed at her for attention.

“I guess, it's high time for me to leave” she declared, making her way to the door. “If you need anything else, call the droids, you have the all-access communicator. Don't worry I'll be right here in the next room.” Before leaving the room at last, she'd turned around and sent Ahiyah a reassuring smile. “Sweet dreams!”

The young Sith sighed and pulled the blanket up right until his chin.

“Wish I could call them that.”

 

When the door closed behind Fherea, silence and darkness settled on the room; only two small, dim lamps above the door gave some light so he wouldn’t fall on his face if he needed to go out and use the bathroom or something like that. He listened so perhaps he could hear some noise from the next room, but the walls were too thick for any sound to get through, and it made him feel strangely alone.

Ahiyah sighed again, closing his eyes and hoping for some dreamless sleep for a change. For a few hours, his wish was granted, but then he found himself in the Dark Temple again, surrounded by horrible monsters and faceless, threatening, masked Sith Lords. His first instinct was to run, but wherever he turned, he only saw enemies around him. They whispered something, their otherworldly voice echoed in the huge main hall of the Temple. Ahiyah didn’t understand a word, but he was sure it was nothing kind.

He stumbled back a few steps from a Sith who raised his lightsaber to cut Ahiyah down, but another grabbed him by the throat with the Force, raising him so he kicked the air as he desperately tried to break free of the cruel hold. He couldn’t breathe, and a wave of fear so strong washed over him it brought tears into his eyes.

 _I don’t wanna die_ , Ahiyah thought, but he knew he would, very soon.

With the last drop of his strength, he tried to summon Force lightning, but the pain and the lack of air made him dizzy. The Sith tightened his grip to break his neck…

...and a slap woke him, and he blinked up at Fherea, his throat hurting from screaming and his face wet with tears he’d have never let fall when awake. She switched the light beside the bed on, so he didn’t have the slightest chance to hide those tears, and now he just waited her to laugh at him and call him a weak, miserable, pathetic slave, as Overseer Harkun and many other Sith in the Korriban Academy did.

“I’ll be right back” she said instead when she was sure he was fully awake, then left the room just to return with a cup of hot, nicely smelling tea.

She put it right into his hands then sat back on the bed beside him, most probably waiting for some explanation which Ahiyah was reluctant to give. He didn’t like talking about his nightmares; not that there had been anyone to listen to them, but he didn’t feel the need to do so, either. Still, as he stared into his cup, more silent tears falling from his eyes despite his best effort to hold them back, the thought that talking might really help occurred to him.

 

One part of Fherea had already regretted that she'd left Ahiyah alone. But what was she supposed to do? She barely knew him! And still, she wanted to ease his pain. Now, the nearly two decades of Sith training meant nothing to her. It all came down to one single event in her life - when she'd been just as miserable and helpless as the other apprentice. When her entire life had solely hung upon her social rank and the rare “mercy” of her instructors.

“You don't have to speak about it, if you don't want to” Fherea started quietly, but she wished she’d stayed silent. That was the most mundane thing she could tell him right now.

Ahiyah didn’t seem to mind her, though. He attempted to wipe his face over and over again, but his tears continued to fall in an endless torrent. The desire of speaking his mind to the other was mounting within him, but his tongue stumbled clumsily on each word he formulated in his thoughts. He cursed himself for being such an incompetent piece of shit, and his constant self-deprecation saddened him even more. Why was he unable to get through all of this? Will his bullying at the Academy haunt him forever? Is he simply meant to be a prey to this world that offered nothing but injustice and cruelty?

 _Why… why… why?!_ , he demanded from himself as he was pressing his fingers against the edge of the cup with growing intensity. It didn’t even matter if the hot liquid was about to burn his fingertips.

Abruptly, Fherea grabbed his wrist. There was nothing violent in this gesture, and when Ahiyah’s gaze met with hers he saw pleading… understanding. In the next moment, her arms - which had been only causing pain for a very long time now - wrapped gently around his trembling chest, entwining him in a soothing embrace.

 

He couldn’t even remember when was the last time someone hugged him; perhaps long ago, in his childhood, his mom did that sometimes, but he couldn’t tell it for sure. Master Zash tried it once, at the very beginning of his apprenticeship, but he was quick to claim that he hated being touched. It was an outright lie, he didn’t, but Zash was the last person he’d have let to touch him in any way.

Fherea’s closeness and hug, on the other hand, did feel very good and soothing. He let the girl take his cup away and put it aside, and he didn’t even contradict when her arms tightened around him, holding him closer. He stirred some, trying to find a more comfortable position for his still sore ribs, but soon she sat with him more or less lying in her lap, his arms loosely around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.

This way she could easily stroke his back, or even hair - that gorgeous, silky dark crimson mess was quite tempting to play with, to be honest. Ahiyah was still crying, she felt the shivers wrecking his already beaten up body, and his tears were hot on her skin and soaked her top.

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay” she murmured, unable to resist the temptation and running her fingers through his hair slowly, again and again.

Once more, he didn’t contradict, moreover, it seemed that the touch was more effective to comfort him than any word could have been.

“I… I hate them so much…!” he sniffled, and now she felt the building anger beneath his apparent despair.

“Whom?” she asked, ready to hunt down those bastards who’d made him this miserable; but she knew he had the strength to rise above it.

“Harkun… and… and… There were… warriors…” he glanced up at her, perhaps fearing that she’d take it personal, but she only felt anger toward these miserable excuses of a warriors, not toward him. Being a warrior meant a lifestyle, a certain creed to live by, and bullying fellow Sith just for fun was definitely not a part of it.

 

“I know.” Fherea's voice suddenly grew cold with hatred. “I would do anything within my power to see them suffer. But then, I'd become just like them, wouldn't I? Like my own cousin.”

“What?” Ahiyah stared at her in utter astonishment as he wiped his swollen eyes again.

“You heard it. My cousin. He tried to kill me.” Fherea swallowed hard. “I don't think you have to be reminded of the basic rules of the Academy. Murdering another student entails severe punishment or death-- except if it's disguised as an accident. Well, even if my cousin was the epitome of a true Warrior, he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. He couldn't accept the fact Lord Baras had chosen me over him as an apprentice and attacked me in the training room while other students were present. The battle cost me a hand” she laughed bitterly.

It had never occured to Ahiyah that one of her hands was a synthetic prosthesis, so soft her touch felt.

“But it cost him his life. After this incident, I locked myself into my room, fearing the Inquisitors’ punishment as I cried myself into a troubled sleep. I was even taken to the torture chamber, but then my father, the powerful Sith Lord, came out of nowhere. I had never been so grateful for the slap he gave me. So did it happen that all male members of my family learnt not to mess with Fherea Tir-Tego. But it doesn't feel like it was worth it at all.”

“But it was you who got attacked, not the other way around” Ahiyah shook his head in disbelief then realized the foolishness of his words. “Oh wait. They didn't care, did they?”

“No, they didn't.”

They fell silent for a moment. Ahiyah managed to calm down a bit and asked Fherea to hand the cup back. He took a sip of tea, and let its warmth spread through in his veins.

“So, that's my story” Fherea shrugged casually. “What about yours?”

 

Ahiyah shrugged, staring into his cup again. He really didn’t know what he could’ve said.

“Well, I was around fifteen when I ended up on the slave market with my entire family… Back then, I didn’t have any idea that I’m a Force-sensitive. Hell, I didn’t even know what the fuck the Force is!” he snorted, his voice filled with something very close to hatred, however, if it was for himself or others, Fherea couldn’t tell. “I’ve spent ten fucking years with serving different crime lords and Imperial dignitaries… All my family has died or disappeared somewhere along the way until I was all alone, being the slave of some Moff or I don’t know… What the fuck is a Moff, anyway?” he asked, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his sleeping tunic.

Fherea couldn’t help her smile hearing the question; Ahiyah, the always curious. But she didn’t interrupt him just waited patiently for him to continue his story.

“Then… one day an Imperial officer came and said that I have to go to Korriban for training, and I didn’t have the slightest idea what the hell she was talking about. And she said I’m Force-sensitive, and I asked back ‘what the heck is the Force?’. She hit me and called me a stupid slave. My mouth had been bleeding all the way to Korriban.”

Fherea’s lips were only a thin line as she tried her best to control her boiling anger, but she made a promise to herself to find this officer and teach her a lesson or two.

“Well, you’ve surely figured out pretty quickly what the heck the Force is” she finally said, and it made Ahiyah smile a little.

“Yeah… but it wasn’t worth much. Almost all of the Academy thought that I’m just a pathetic slave who’d just die rather sooner than later. Well, I’ve proven them wrong. Then Zash came, and she chose me as her apprentice. I’m not really sure it’s much better, though” he sighed, drinking his tea slowly, enjoying the warmth and the exquisite taste of it.

 

Fherea nodded thoughtfully as she cracked her knuckles - a bad habit of hers she’d developed at a very young age. A wicked plan began formulating in the darkest depths of her mind, a plan that made her crack an insidious smile.

“Maybe we can pay back their hospitality in our way. At some point in the future, we’ll inevitably rival those self-appointed Sithlings, and two Force-users are always better than one.”

Now, it was Ahiyah’s turn to lighten up.

“Are you suggesting we should team up against them?”

“Not just them. Our masters, the disgrace of the Empire - against the whole galaxy if we have to.”

Fherea didn’t know when her newfound partner had got rid of the cup, but in the very next moment she found herself in the other’s arms again. A heartfelt hug she didn’t mind at all.

“Welcome to the club” Ahiyah muttered as his fists gradually outstretched against her partly naked back.

Without reaching out to the Force, she could sense his overwhelming joy, as if his heart had leapt through the perpetual darkness of Dromund Kaas, heading for the vast immense of gleaming stars - for the true freedom.

**The End**


End file.
